


Faithful Friends Who Are Dear to Us

by bigficenergy



Series: Seasons Greetings from Schitt's Creek [5]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Huddling For Warmth, Multi, Power Outage, Prompt Fill, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigficenergy/pseuds/bigficenergy
Summary: Friends don't let friends freeze during a winter power outage (even if they made fun of your sweater).
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Stevie Budd & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Seasons Greetings from Schitt's Creek [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577725
Comments: 18
Kudos: 215





	Faithful Friends Who Are Dear to Us

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Cuddling for warmth; Ugly Christmas sweaters
> 
> Thank you to the anonymous prompter for this interesting combo! I maybe didn't fill these to the letter, but the elements are represented. Hope that works!

When Patrick returns to the store from his bank run, shutting the door quickly against the icy winter air, he’s met with the unusual sight of Stevie lugging a heavy box out from the back room. If it were a case of wine, that would be one thing - he’s seen her leave with a good number of those. But she brings this box over to David, who is finishing up stocking from another big box. Odder still, Stevie is wearing a gaudy black and white poncho-like sweater that is very much not in line with her almost entirely plaid wardrobe.

“Should I ask what David promised you from our stock to make you work this hard?” Patrick asks by way of greeting.

“Nothing, actually,” Stevie replies, rubbing her hands together. “Just trying to avoid frostbite.”

“Power’s out at the motel,” David explains.

“And at my place,” Stevie says. “The Cafe is packed with people whose power is out, so I came here.”

Patrick sighs. “We might as well turn the heat up here. Our bill is already gonna be high, we might as well try to entice some people out of the cold.”

“I’m so glad you said that because I already turned it up,” David says.

Patrick shakes his head, but he’s smiling as he heads behind the register, shedding his coat.

“So what’s with the poncho?” he asks Stevie. “Doing a test run for Twyla’s ugly sweater party?”

Stevie whips around to face him, eyes wide and lips pressed together, clearly dying to break into a grin. David has looked up from his task too, his expression much darker as he says, “Excuse me?”

“What did I say?” Patrick asks, searching for a clue between the two of them.

“Patrick,” Stevie says, taking the ends of the sweater and spreading it out. “This belongs to your husband.”

Now Patrick’s eyes widen, looking to David, who is glaring daggers at him.

“It’s just what the parties are called, David,” he tries. “The sweaters usually aren’t actually ugly, they’re more…”

“Funky?” Stevie provides.

“Sure. Funky. That’s a good- oh uh… no, not… not funky,” Patrick stumbles over his words when David’s expression somehow becomes even less amused.

“I’ll have you know I got that sweater from Jared Leto,” David says indignantly.

“That’s not exactly a brag these days,” Stevie says.

There are no customers in the store, so Patrick goes over to David and wraps his arms around his waist. David lets him, but he also doesn’t move into the touch or even look at Patrick, continuing to focus on stocking the table.

“I’m sorry, David. You know that I like your clothes. And I know if I don’t ‘get’ your clothes, that’s probably on me. I’m sure it looks good on you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stevie asks, holding her arms out to accentuate the boxiness of the poncho. Patrick spares her just a brief smirk and shakes his head, knowing better than to entertain her.

“I forgive you,” David says. “Mostly because I need somewhere warm to stay tonight, so…”

David is already smiling as Patrick leans up to kiss him.

“Any chance you have room for one more at the Brewer Inn?” Stevie asks loudly.

“Absolutely not,” David says before Patrick can respond.

Patrick feels his phone buzz in his pocket and gives David one more peck on the cheek before pulling away to check his texts, while David argues that he gets a say in who comes over because he's mostly moved into Patrick's place, and Stevie counters that he hasn't officially moved out of the motel until less than fifty percent of his sweaters are stored there.

"Bad news," Patrick interrupts. "Message from my building management. Our power is out too. Sounds like this street corner is the last place in town with power."

"Well don't say that, you'll jinx us!" David cries.

"Dibs on the stockroom couch," Stevie calls.

"You're not sleeping here!"

"You're right. Who knows what you guys have done on that couch."

"Okay, guys?" Patrick cuts in again. "How about this? I picked up a couple of logs for the fireplace the other day. I was gonna save them for the white elephant party, but we could put one on tonight, move all the blankets to the sofa, have some drinks?"

"I'm in," Stevie says.

"Great! David?"

"I think that sounds awfully romantic for three people who are not all seeing each other," David says pointedly.

"It's not exactly the kind of evening I want to crash, but I can see my breath when I'm _inside_ my apartment," Stevie says. "I will sit between you two and sing 'Money, Money' all night if I have to."

\---

Stevie eventually earns her place at the party by pitching in for wine and charcuterie plate fixings. Between the crackling fire, Patrick's down comforter, and the fact that they have to squeeze in close to all fit on Patrick's little sofa, it's not actually all that difficult to keep warm with no working heater.

The snacks and wine are gone quickly, though, and one of them suggests an ugly sweater design contest for the last piece of Warner Farms smoked gouda. Patrick passes out yellow legal pads and pens, and snuggles back into the couch on one side of David. He suspects that David actually enjoys being between him and Stevie, even if he likes to act indifferent or annoyed about the seating arrangement.

Stevie finishes her sketch first, revealing to them an approximation of David’s poncho sweater that she’s still wearing.

“I hope beating a dead horse was worth not winning,” David grumbles.

“I don’t know, I think I still have a shot. Whatcha got, Patrick?”

Patrick turns his pad to show them and shrugs. Stevie grins.

“Isn’t that also one of your sweaters, David?”

“What?! It’s not!” Patrick insists, inspecting his own work.

“Yeah!” Stevie points at the drawing. “The one with the fluff stripes!”

David gasps. “The sweater I was wearing when you proposed?!”

“No! David, I swear.” He uses his pen to indicate parts of the drawing. “This isn’t fluff, it’s rows of garland. If I had colors to work with you’d see they’re pine-y and tinsel-y and very tacky.”

“I see,” David says skeptically.

Patrick clears his throat. “What do you have David?"

"Okay, so I am also at a disadvantage due to the lack of color options," David says, holding out his drawing for them to see. "But picture, like, an atomic chartreuse."

Beyond the imagined color, there's nothing particularly notable about the basic sweater shape David has drawn.

"That's it?" Stevie asks.

"What do you mean 'that's it'?" David says. "Look at that loose neckline! And the weird length of the hem? And obviously, the synthetic fibers."

"Oh of course, how did I miss that?"

"I see it, David," Patrick says, rubbing David's back. "It's perfectly hideous."

"Okay, well I vote for mine," Stevie says, tossing her pad and pen on the table.

"You can't vote for yourself!" David says.

"Says who? Who were you gonna vote for?"

She's got him there, and David knows it.

"And then Patrick was gonna vote for you because of love or whatever…"

"Hey! Maybe I was gonna vote for myself too."

"Okay!" David says, tossing his pad and pen on the table too, and throwing his hands up. "So we clearly didn't think this through."

"Maybe we should just let Stevie have it. She is our guest."

"Would we call her a guest?" David asks, voice high with skepticism. "I feel like 'squatter' is the more appropriate term."

"I feel like you wouldn't be this cuddled up to a squatter."

" _Cuddled up_?"

" _Us_?" Stevie adds. "Never."

"Never?" Patrick asks innocently. "Not even when you two were…"

"Please don't," David pleads.

"...bumping uglies?"

" _Bumping uglies_?!" David exclaims.

"Gross, can I break up with him _for_ you?" Stevie asks, but she's laughing.

"Hey, aren't you usually on my side?" Patrick asks her.

"Well, since I'm not _bumping uglies_ with either of you..."

"Oh my god," David murmurs, hands covering his face.

"I have no allegiance. I'm a free agent."

"Ugh, that's a sports thing, isn't it?" David groans. "Fine, you know what?"

He reaches over and plucks the coveted piece of cheese from the plate and pops it in his mouth, throwing his hands up as if to say "problem solved" as he chews it. Stevie and Patrick watch him in surprise for a moment, and then Stevie is moving.

"Cheating means you forfeit your share of the blanket!" she says, but since David is in the middle, she wraps her end of the blanket around herself and tries to take it with her while climbing over him get between him and Patrick.

"AH! What are you- Stop that, you can't just make up rules!"

Instead of moving, David takes Stevie by the waist and wrestles her back to her side of the couch. Patrick sits back and watches them, beyond amused, especially when David apparently resorts to exploiting a ticklish spot somewhere on Stevie so she dissolves into a fit of laughter and stops fighting him.

"Yeah you two aren't cuddly at all," Patrick teases.

David whips around to look at him, brows furrowed.

"I think he's jealous," Stevie gasps out between giggles.

"Oh, does this look pleasant to you?" David asks, abandoning Stevie in favor of pushing through the blanket to climb on top of Patrick.

"Hmm, too bad I'm not ticklish- OH!" Patrick makes a yelping sound he didn't know he was capable of when David shoves up his sweater and teases his fingertips up his side. "Wait, no, how- David!"

And then Patrick's laughter is mixing with Stevie's, and David is grinning triumphantly above him. In his struggle, Patrick accidentally kicks Stevie, who lets out an "oof" then continues to laugh.

"Oh my god I have to pee," she gasps eventually, tumbling gracelessly off the couch and heading for the bathroom. 

When the door shuts, David finally lets up on tickling Patrick, leaning down instead to kiss his still laughing mouth. Patrick settles into it after a moment, bringing his hand up to the back of David's head to deepen the kiss.

"You know," Patrick says between smaller kisses, "we should let her stay here tonight."

"Uh-huh," David says, his nose brushing against Patrick's. "So shut up and kiss me while we have a second."

"Shutting up," Patrick agrees, pulling David back down to kiss him some more.

Stevie is really taking her time in the bathroom and things are getting warm enough between them that David pushes the blanket off and doesn’t protest when Patrick slides his hands up his back, underneath his sweater. David just kisses him harder, until Patrick turns his head away.

“Approaching the point of no return here,” he breathes.

“Already? You flatter me,” David says, kissing him on the cheek, but taking some of his weight off him. “You sure you wanna let Stevie stay?”

“David…”

“I know, I know, just checking.”

“Tell you what, though,” Patrick says, running his hands up David’s arms. “We’ve got everything we need for s’mores. Even got marshmallow roasting skewers I found with my old camping gear last time I was at my parents’, so it’ll be easy to do in the fireplace. Will you take that as a consolation?”

“I mean, obviously,” David says. “But don’t get any ideas. This is the closest you will ever get me to camping.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, because I got you a tent for you Christmas.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re right. I got you a headlamp for Hanukkah.”

“That’s enough out of you.”

Finally, the bathroom door opens and Stevie comes out with a hand over her eyes, singing:

“ _Money makes the world go around, the world go around. Money makes the world go around, that clinking clanking sound!_ Are you guys decent?”

“Yes,” Patrick says, sitting up so David has to climb off of him. “We’re making s’mores.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

“If we say yes will you go home?” David asks.

Stevie takes her hand off her eyes and goes back to the couch. “Nope.”

Patrick gets up to go to the kitchen, smiling at the background sound of David and Stevie - his husband and their dearest friend - bickering while they share a blanket by the light of the fire.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed/are enjoying the holidays! 🎁
> 
> I meant to get this done before Christmas, but Christmas really snuck up on me this year. It's fine though, 'tis still technically the season.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
